today, i have lines from shel silverstein’s the giving tree running over and over and over again in my head. i can never tell about this poem. it’s just so much and so sad and when i was a kid i loved it, because i can always relate to trees and giants. but as i grew older and the she of the tree and the he of the boy and the boy never giving back and just taking everything the tree has to offer, well it just sort of hurt my heart. but then as i grew even older i would read and i’d still see the she doing all the giving and the he doing all the taking and, yet, the tree was happy. and maybe it’s not so bad to give so much of yourself, you know?
i still have no idea how i feel about the poem and what it all means, but it’s been going round and round in my head today.
Just found your website via Quidnunc. Love, love love it. I rarely find a blog I have so much in common with. I shall keep reading!
I love the giving tree. I think the tree’s happiness is in giving. My happiness is in giving, but I sometimes forget how much joy I get from it when getting is fun too (and easier). It makes me cry when I read it and try to think about the last time I gave myself that much to someone else. It makes me a little sad when I remember it was quite a bit ago. It makes me want to open my chest and let sun shine out onto everyone around me.
I think perhaps you’re creating a metphor with those pronouns when there isn’t one to be had. If you ask me it’s about the giving part and has nothing to do with gender.
Then again, it could be about a Mother’s love for their children. Of course, what would Shel Silverstien know about Motherly love? Unless he’s speaking about his own relationship with his Mother. Maybe he felt like all he did was take from his Mom and never gave anything back? I don’t really know much about the guy… just some brainstorming here.
Anyway, I think I see where you’re going, Jodi, and I don’t think that’s it.
The Giving Tree is a poem that will mean so much more to you when you have kids, and feel that unconditional love.
The darker subtext, as I read into it, was showing how simply giving and giving can make someone as selfish as the boy is in the story. The boy never understood just how much he took away from the tree, or how much what he took was worth, mostly because the tree never told him. While what given to him quite literally did “grow on trees”, he never appreciated the sacrifices that were made for him.
Perhaps it was cleverly hidden guilt that drove him, perhaps it was Shel himself who was the giver, but it’s obvious that somehow he was involved in a similar relationship. The nuances and strength that were written into the poem could only have been so accurately penned by someone immediately affected as such. Whichever role he played, this poignant work achieves it’s goal; whether it be absolution for transgression or a request for recognition, we heard you, Shel. We heard you loud and clear.
If it’s true that some people’s existance only serves to be a warning to others, then let’s all take this to heart.
Unless, of course, your parents were wrethched harpies that were the bane of your existance, in which case the tree was just a big sucker for the grifting.
As Obi-Wan said, “…you’re going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”
By the way;
1) You are not the tree, nor the boy.
2) We (your readers) are not the tree, nor the boy.
3) TTHM is not the tree, nor the boy.
Now rent a video, watch it while the TTHM is sitting and you’re laying across him, head on his leg, your arms around him, and look up at him and realize that you can trust a guy to be gentle with your feelings. Then smile smugly to your self and know that it’s not REALLY a date…
It’s a whole relationship unfolding…
there are miles of things you don’t know. they are not my things to tell. i made a choice to acknowledge the things and not let them affect me and take what i can get at the moment and if he decides i am worthy then so be it and if he decides i am unworthy then so be it. i will not compare myself to the ones who went before, i will not compare him to the ones who went before. i will not overshoot my headlights.
I can’t read The Giving Tree. It reminds me too much of my mother and makes me cry and cry and cry.
The Giving Tree is a wonderful story and shows that life is not a simple matter of just black and white. I still feel sorry for the tree though.
There comes a time when one ponders….
their own trees…
This has been such a time….